Here's some fresh fruit for breakfast, MOM. I'm headed out into the garden for the next few days. My long weekend will make a big push to finish projects. I'll come check on you in case the boys are out drinking at the beach, kayaking, or duking it out at the Lodge Hovel.

I use my Gramps' mix and I use salt pork on the griddle and I make it runny so that it makes an 8" pancake and I cook em until they are reeeeally brown and I slather them with maple slurpup... I AM CANADIAN!

Well, I have a few Buds while I am flippin, but they are Canuck Buds... union made, of course.

Ach, mein Gott! Stilly, are you related to...Dr. Viktor Frankenstein? Creating pancakes in your home! I'm appalled, simply shocked! What if they got out of your control and went rampaging through the neighborhood, devouring children, small pets, and large pickup trucks?

None of those hybrid dehydrated boxed or frozen pancakes for us. My recipe tends to be watered down enough to cook quite thin (not quite like a crepe, but close). A Swedish pancake is probably a step-sibling of the ones my Norwegian mother taught me to make as a child. Any leftovers we used to eat them cold by smearing on strawberry jelly then rolling them.

(1) Tenderness, gentleness; affected delicacy of behaviour or appearance; affectation. Also: an instance of this. Now rare. (2) A type of narrow braid on which a design of crochet border or edging is worked (more fully mignardise braid); also, the design of crochet border or edging worked on this braid. Now hist. (3) Chiefly U.S. A fancy cake or similar sweet confection, usually served at the end of a meal. Also fig.

Used in a sentence in 1631 by B. Jonson:

"Entertaine her, and her creatures, too, With all the migniardise, and quaint Caresses, You can put on 'hem."

"Rapparree needs to practice embellishing his posts with a touch of mignardise."

I think a long, colorful ballad could be found in that picture--the day the pancake tackled Rapparree.

There was syrup in his eyes, and butter up his nose, And bits of buttered bacon sprinkled all around his clothes, It surely was an awful fight, A terrible sight to see, the day the pancake tackled Rapparree...

a true pancake has bones....it's the flapjacks that are boneless...of course since they tend to interbreed you run the gamut of boneless to boned and every stage inbetween when hunting from a wild population.

The native American Pancake tends to be thicker and meatier, the European Flapjack (called crepes by some) tend to be thinner and far less substantial.

That's why most people stick to the farmed varieties; especially since Ms. A. Jemima perfected her method for dehydrating and powdering her ranched pancake/flapjack hybrids, selected for both substance and lack of bones.

Pancakes are one of those foods we sometimes have for dinner when we want something comforting and quick. Usually, of course, they're good for breakfast. They're also one of the more malleable foods for art. Making faces, figures, etc. all for a syrup bath.

You got bones in yer pancakes? Do they run wild in the woods, devouring anyone who gets in their way, ravaging lumber camps and leaving destruction in their wake? We have some of those out here -- sourdoughs, flapjacks, blueberries, huckleberries -- and they're so big you need at LEAST a .375 Winchester Magnum to put 'em down and even then it generally takes a whole magazine plus a "coop de grass" at the end. Our pancakes have few, if any, bones, but they are damned dangerous to those who walk in the hills.

A few years back one ate a game warden, truck and all.

You can hear 'em in the hills this time of year, making their "whoo-dee-dum-whup-whup-whup" mating cry.

Well, Gnu, whyncha get Lodged like Rapp done? 'Course it's hard to say WHAT he has lodged and where, and I have a few ideas about that, extrapolating from known trends, as it were, but I ain't sayin' nuffin'.

Actually, it's very much like the one this guy from Blackfoot is wearing. Silver on a purple velvet lining.

Story: Monday there was a call to the Lodge from a guy in Pennsylvania. Seems like he was digging up his garden and came upon one of these necklaces about six inches down. It was definitely from the Pocatello Elks' lodge, and he's sending it back to see what we can find out about it. It's in gold, which means that it's an "Exalted Ruler" (Lodge Chair) necklace. It's old, too.

Sorry, I wasn't watching MOM, I was in the hall watching the weather radar on the laptop. The dogs were in their leashes and asleep on their cushy dog beds as we all sat, inside the house, awaiting the passage of a nasty storm.

Moonglow sent quite an impressive photo of a tornado from her back door window. Wanted to see what my reaction was. By the time I'd gotten it out of the phone into the computer and then Photoshop, the shock of my baby near a tornado had lessened. I would have been there watching it with her, had I been at her house.

I've been visiting all the local schools pushing books and reading over the summer. The kids all get bright yellow backpacks to help them remember to come to the library, and in each class I've visited, I've sung a song set to Paganini's first Ghiribizzi variation (No. 1 in A, allegretto). Here are the words. If you listen to the tune, which is quite catchy, and then put the words to it, I might not be the only one in the world who has this melody running through my head all day every day.

Here are the words:

Oh won't you come to the library, Come to the library. Put all your books in your pack

Then you can join in our Fun and activities, And you will say, "Mom, please bring me right back!"